Bad Cooking
by BuckNC
Summary: It's a romantic comedy from Ron's Point of View after Hogwarts about a romantic dinner that goes horribly wrong and hopefully right at the same time.
1. The Dating Scene

**Bad Cooking**

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><p><strong>Author's <strong>**Note: **_I wrote this quick little three-chapter story in 2006 before book 7 to try something a bit different at the suggestion of my Muse. It's a romantic comedy from Ron's Point of View after Hogwarts or more specifically a single male's point of view about a romantic dinner that goes horribly wrong and hopefully right at the same time._

_Also need to mention I jumped a bit off cannon by having Harry die in this one._

_**Disclaimer**: All characters are the property of J. K. Rowling, and Time Warner. This is strictly for non-profit Internet entertainment use and if they sue me, I do not have a dime to my name._

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><p><strong>Chapter 1 - The Dating Scene<strong>

Admittedly, Ron was feeling a bit nervous. Not that he wouldn't enjoy having a romantic dinner at Hermione's new flat in London. It was worth seeing her again, even if he would have to spend half the night trying to force himself to eat her Merlin-awful cooking. Luckily, that was going to be the easy part. The hard part would be while pretending to like her cooking; he would have to find a way to get Hermione to reconsider taking him back.

"Ugh!" Ron groaned at how bad things had got between them.

He refocused to see himself fidgeting in front of his mirror in his bedroom at The Burrow. The image was of a successful attractive muscular man with red hair, who was a twenty-one-year old Auror for the Ministry of Magic. However, the images only showed the outside appearance. If the mirror had been a true reflection, it would have shown a miserable lonely boy who still lived with his parents.

"**Ron, ****you're ****going ****to ****be ****late!**" hollered his anxious Mum downstairs.

Ron frowned as he tied on his Muggle tie while thinking of what got him in this situation. After all, he had been dating Hermione Granger since the end of sixth-year. They were inseparable even throughout the war, Harry's funeral and the first few years that he was in Auror training and she, in Healer training.

Ron thought of the time apart that led to their breakup. _That __was __what __ruddy __started __it, __she __was __constantly __at __the __Hospital __and __I __was __always __in __the __field_.

To say he was surprised that it happened in the first place; he wasn't. Hermione was always the type of girl that wanted to spend her time talking or sharing her and his feelings together. Ron was more of a we-can-talk-after-sex type himself. Needless-to-say, they rarely did enough to satisfy either one of them then one massive row later, the fall-out led to a breakup over nine months and counting.

Ron frowned again at his reflection before putting on a secondhand brown Muggle sports coat and slowly made his way downstairs to face the music. He started descending as he recounted the reasons in his head why he was going back to Hermione.

_Celestia __Warback_. Ron immediately started shivering as he remembered his first date after Hermione.

At first, he felt nothing but freedom and relief after his breakup with Hermione. What bloke wouldn't? He could see and date whoever he wanted and he certainly wouldn't pick some arrogant, bossy know-it-all. No sir, he was determined to learn from his past mistakes and pick a really cute girl with a good head on her shoulders. To that end, he made his first mistake. He done something so stupid that even to this day he couldn't believe he did it. He foolishly trusted Fred and George to hook him up.

Oh, they hooked him up all right! They coupled him with a sixty-year-old hag with a huge wart on her nose and a swollen hump on her back. That was her more appealing side to her. The unappealing side was the stench from her mouth as she tried to French kiss him throughout the date. The stench was so bad that it was a cross from stale old decaying fish and moldy tobacco that she smoked endlessly. To this day he could still feel his nose-hair burning. It also didn't help that she was more than eager to drag a very reluctant Ron into her shanty old house to have sex on their first and only date. He had to physical fight her off in a tug-of-war as she tried to pull him inside and he lost his pants in the process. A smirking Ginny keeps offering to get them back for him if he promised to go out on a second date with her, so she could take pictures.

_Bloody __Ginny._ If his older twin brothers were bad, his little sister was the devil. She was adamant from the beginning that he was an idiot and went out of her way to prove her point. So on his second date after he took the matter of finding the right girl for himself, Ginny completely and utterly destroyed it before it even started.

_Amy __Fields._ She worked at the Ministry of International Cooperation and she had all the prerequisites that he was looking for in his ideal date. She was pretty, funny, smart and had a nice set of knockers that make a randy bloke forget about all his problems. It also helped that she thought he was funny too and was more than willing to go out on a date with him. Unfortunately, she was untested against the practical jokes of Fred and George's products and Ginny's sneaky nature.

Ron had taken Amy to a nice restaurant and hadn't even noticed that Ginny had secretly followed them there wearing Harry's old invisibility cloak. That was until she rudely introduced herself at his table and blatantly took a seat next to Amy. It was Hermione this and Hermione that and before he could angrily tell her to get lost she had managed to slip a few of Fred and George's Ton-Tongue toffee into Amy's salad. They had to spend the rest of the night at the St. Mungo's hospital reducing her six meter green and yellow polka dot tongue back to normal. To make matters worse, Hermione was the one who was sent in to heal his date.

Ron groaned again as he remember the surprised, hurt and angry look he got from Hermione that miserable night. Shortly thereafter, he learned from an unapologetic Ginny that Hermione was dating one of the other Healers at St. Mungo's.

"Mickey," he stewed out in jealousy, as he descended past Ginny's quiet bedroom and made his last flight down the stairs.

Healer Mick Lloyd was everything he wasn't. He was rich, super smart, well spoken and one of those sensitive blokes who were more than willing to cry in front of a girl if he so much as stump his toe or ordered the wrong dish at some snobby restaurant. He loathed jerks like that. _Get __a __pair __of __balls, __you __tosser._

_Tania __Rowling._ Now she was his last girlfriend after learning about Mickey and Hermione being a couple. Tania was a promising new Editor at the Daily Prophet, who enjoyed a lot of the same things that Ron enjoyed. She loved movies, picnics and Quidditch as much as he did, and even managed to get him inside the Chudley Cannons locker room with a Press pass. If that wasn't enough of what was great about her, then there was the fact that she was drop-dead gorgeous. It also helped that Ginny or the rest of his family couldn't easily deter her. Of course, he had to keep her safely away from his family as long as possible until his Mum forced him to have her make an appearance at The Burrow for Christmas.

Ron often wondered if his Mum had chosen sides against him, because over Christmas dinner Fred and George tried to slip Tania a Canary cream but she simply and wisely separated it from her plate to the disappointment of the on looking twins. Ginny was even deterred, as she had invited Hermione to stop by The Burrow to meet his family. Tania proved herself worthy by being nothing but pleasant and friendly to everyone including Hermione. Ron pleasingly noticed a look of jealousy from Hermione by the time she had left and a frown of disappointment from his devilish sister.

That was then… Two months of dating Tania after Christmas and it was a different story. It wasn't like the time when he wanted to break up with Lavender. No, this time it was definitely different. This time he was the one that was dumped without wanting to be.

"_Ron, __I'm __sorry__… __but __I __think __it's __time __we __see __other __people." _Ron had spent over three months with Tania and she had really gotten to know him. _That's __the __part __that __hurts, __she __knew __me __enough __not __to __ever __want __to __be __with __me __again._

He was always a good judge of character and he thought the world of Tania, so he started to wonder after being dumped by both Hermione and Tania that he might have a problem. What made it even worse was that he was feeling so miserable that he desperately wanted a comforting hug from Hermione. Instead, he rottenly noticed one day in Diagon Alley that she was too busy giving those hugs to Mickey. They had both left Flourish and Blotts holding hands with a huge smile on Hermione's face and a smug look on Mickey's. Ginny even bragged to their family over breakfast the next day at how happy Hermione was.

_Great, just ruddy great. _

It wasn't until he had to take his annual physical at St. Mungo's would he see Hermione again. It was a long span of over four lonely, miserable, dateless months with nothing but his barmy family to spend time with on a Friday and Saturday evenings. He started off during the exam by asking how she had been and if she was enjoying her new promotion to Healer from trainee. He followed that up with answering her questions about his family and the latest scars on his chest that he got from catching and arresting Draco Malfoy. Lastly, as he was putting his shirt back on and was noticing that Hermione seemed to be in a deep daze, looking at him, he boldly asked her if she wanted to go out for coffee. It seemed a small step considering how much past that they had shared, but it worked. At the coffee shop, he didn't row with her and he even managed to tell a joke to her about Fred and George getting in trouble with his Mum over her vegetable garden and the recent growth of a thirty-five meter long British flag colored eggplant.

_It was nice to hear her laugh again._

After thirty minutes of chatting, Hermione invited him for dinner at her place on a Friday night. He couldn't think of anything else for the next two days and now that it was here he felt as nervous as he had been while waiting in a line to be sorted into a Hogwarts House.

Ron finally made the last step off the stairs and looked at his huge family waiting at the kitchen table to see him leave. His Mum was the first to respond to him.

"Oh dear, honestly all of you boys need a haircut." His Mum wetted her hand with her tongue and then started to pat down his red-hair to no avail. "Well… that's the best we can do, I'm afraid. But tomorrow, young man, you're going down to Hogsmeade and getting yourself a haircut."

"Mum!" whined Ron as he stepped back from her, and ran his hand through his hair.

Ginny, as if she had been waiting since morning for this moment was next. "Hold still, you git." She was running her eyes all over him before reaching a conclusion about his appearance. "Not too bad, but your tie is crooked. Or maybe your fat head's crooked… I can never tell."

A majority of the family including his father laughed at Ginny's sarcasm, while she straightened his tie and patted the dust off his shoulders.

"Little Ronnie, has finally come to his senses," said Fred or maybe it was George.

"Going to admit he's a right pathetic loser without her, I imagine," George or maybe it was Fred.

"Mind your own business," snapped Ron, angry at how painful and close to the truth his twin brothers were.

"Boys!" warned his Dad against fighting with one another. He then warmly patted Ron in the arm before advising, "Your Mum's got some really nice lilies in the garden and if I remember correctly Hermione seemed to like them–"

Ron interrupted his Dad with what he already knew, "Red ones. Red is her favorite color, I know, Dad."

His Dad knowingly smiled at him as he retook his seat at the head of the table.

"Good luck, Ron," his oldest brother Bill said from the table sitting next to his wife, Fleur, who seemed more interested at her fingernails.

"Go get her, tiger," a smiling Charlie added.

"If you want, Ron, Penelope and I can double-date—" Percy seriously offered.

"Thanks, but no thanks," Ron already wound up, said in reply.

With that Ron hurriedly made for the front door before it got any worse with his meddlesome family. After he made a successful exit from The Burrow, he picked up some red lilies from the garden and before he Apparated to Hermione's flat he thought of what he needed to do. He would most likely have to swallow his pride and get on his hands and knees to beg her to dump Mickey and take him back. All because he knew the alternative of keeping his pride and being without her was even worse than her cooking, and that was saying something.


	2. From the Black Smoke, I Say it's Lasagna

**Chapter 2 – From the Black Smoke, I Say it's Lasagna**

Ron Apparated to the back alley of Hermione's flat, so that none of her Muggle neighbors could notice him. He slowly walked his way around towards the front of her white two-story flat. He immediately noticed the contrasting color of a black smoke cloud bellowing out from the small rectangular opening near the bottom of her front door.

**Rarr!** roared a disgruntled flat-faced red-haired furball that leapt out of the flat through the small rectangular opening and dashed towards her flower garden for safety.

He was more surprised at seeing that Crookshanks had his own pet door and less surprised at the puffy black clouds that were rolling out of it. After all he was used to Hermione's cooking and it took only a few sniffs of the smoke to recognize that she was cooking Lasagna again.

The black smoke magically stopped bellowing out and started to suck back into the house in reverse as Ron took the time to look at his watch.

_Six forty-two. Hmm… I'm early. _

**Bamm! Bizzz!**

Ron looked up from his watch to see a flash of white light in every window of Hermione's flat quickly followed with every Muggle light simultaneously going dark. He could even hear Hermione's yell from inside, as she screamed, "**I ****don't ****have ****time ****for ****this!**"

**Bizz!**

The lights all magically turned on again as he patiently tapped his foot waiting for some more time to pass before knocking on the front door. He even smiled over at a Muggle couple walking their dog across the street, looking strangely at him and Hermione's flat.

**Kaa Boom! Crash! **

A red explosion lit up Hermione's kitchen window along with a brass pot crashing through her front kitchen window then soaring past his head to land directly in front of the shell-shocked Muggles watching him and the flat.

"**Aggh! ****Come ****back ****here!"** Hermione shouted from the kitchen.

"Nice day isn't it," Ron said with a smile to the jumpy Muggles who looked as if they were in total fear of Hermione's flat. He casually walked across the street and picked up the smoking pot of boiled tomatoes in front of the wide-eyed Muggles who looked as if this was the first time they had ever seen a pot of tomatoes getting blasted across the street from Hermione's stove.

"Do... do… d'you live there?" the scared Muggle husband asked, as he pushed his wife behind him for safety.

"Me? No sorry, mate. I'm just the poor bloke that has to eat this stuff," he joked back to them while trying to hold the pot steady as no doubt Hermione was trying to magically summon it back into the flat.

It gave the impression to the Muggles that the pot contained something alive and dangerous, as he had to fight it to keep it in his hands.

"My condolences," offered the worried Muggle woman as she grabbed her husband and leashed dog before making a hasty retreat down the street.

He waited till they ran around the corner before releasing the pot and watched as it flew through Hermione's broken front kitchen window. The window glass pane immediately began to reseal itself from the broken glass pieces all over her front yard.

Normally, about his time he would offer to help her in the kitchen to keep the explosions down to a minimum but she was always too stubborn to let him help. Therefore, he walked back across the street and patiently waited on her front porch before he would knock on her door at seven.

**Bizzz!**

He watched as the front light went out again.

"**Grrr!**" growled Hermione. "**I ****should've ****ordered ****out!**"

He silently agreed with her and wondered if he should just go down the street to the local neighborhood Chinese take-out and order a few cartons for them to eat.

**Bang!**

He heard the unmistakable sound of Hermione tossing her brass pots and pans into the sink followed by her front door opening up. She apparently was of the same mind as Ron as she looked ready to run down to the Chinese restaurant before she assumed he got there.

"Hello, Hermione," Ron said as he smiled at a shocked and disheveled Hermione.

She was wearing a once very nice silk grey dress that was covered with different sized circles of Olive oil, black smudges from when the stove blew up and various assortments of flour and tomato juice. Which normally be the worse of it, but Hermione's bushy hair was covered in white flour giving the appearance that she was a ghost.

"Ek... Ron… you're early," Hermione shrieked in fear as she froze at her front door staring at him.

"Uh… yeah. Sorry about that. Say, I was wondering if you want to maybe go to a restaurant—"

Hermione flashed a look of worry across her face before she immediately settled down with a pleasant, reassuring, and in-charge smile.

"No need for that. I'm almost done," confirmed Hermione in a lie as she waved her wand to re-light all of her Muggle lights in her house.

"You know, there's a really good Chinese-" He stated but never got to finish his suggestion as Hermione pulled him into her house.

"Ron, relax. I'm just having some problems with the Muggle lighting and wiring in this old house. Dinner is practically read to be – oh you brought me some flowers."

"Er… yeah,' He answered as he lifted the flowers out of his coat and handed them to a smiling Hermione who sniffed in their scent.

"It's from The Burrow, I can tell." Hermione knowingly informed him with a pleasant smile on her face.

"Yeah, Mum, grows them and I remembered that red was your favorite color."

"It's Maroon actually," responded Hermione as she placed them inside an empty crystal vase and then used her wand to fill up the vase with water.

Ron, who was never a fan of Maroon, had to bite down on his tongue not to angrily reply on what he thought about the ruddy color of Maroon.

**Pisss!**

Ron and Hermione listened to the unmistakable sound of boiling water overflowing a pot from inside the kitchen.

"Now, Ron, you sit right over there on the couch and make yourself comfortable," ordered Hermione who quickly rushed into the kitchen and slammed the door magically shut.

He heard the brass clattering of pans that she was undoubtedly removing from the sink and putting back on top of the stove. The noise was followed quickly by a sharp howl of pain from Hermione, "**Ow! ****Shh!**" Who was trying her best to muffle her own voice after her first hollering in pain and then he heard the unmistakable sound of running water in the sink that she undoubtedly was cooling off her burnt hand with.

_Stubborn __git. _He shook his head, got up off the couch and made his way over to Hermione's kitchen door.

"**Hermione!** This is silly, let me in to help you."

"No, Ron, everything is fine," whimpered a hurt Hermione like a poor animal that had been run over.

He continued to frown at her stubborn reply before he pulled out his wand and waved it to open the kitchen door. What he saw would make even his poor Mum gasped with a heart attack. Patches of burnt pasta, tomato sauce, and melted cheese were plastered all over the kitchen. Magically levitating knives were no longer chopping salad and instead were busy cutting a long loaf of French bread into crumbs. Small winged glasses of various spices were flying around the kitchen like they were a flock of birds. All the pots were over-boiling, the stove was puffing out black smoke, and in the middle of it all stood his Hermione holding her burnt hand about to cry as she gazed miserably over at him.

Being Ron at this delicate moment, he couldn't help but brag to Hermione, "It looks like your cooking has improved - at least this time the stove is still in the kitchen."

**Paugh! Crash!**

He spoke to soon, the stove door popped open and pitched out a scorched pan of Lasagna across the room. It was so overcooked and rubbery that it merely bounced off the wall and landed upside down two feet in front of him.

He couldn't help himself – he howled with laughter.

"**HAHAHA-HAHAH!**"

"**It's ****not ****funny!**" Hermione pouted to him but after a few seconds even she started to laugh with him. "**Ha-ha HAHA!**"

He eventually stopped laughed so he could wave his wand to wrap Hermione's hand in bandages and begin the process of repairing the kitchen and then later on hopefully their relationship.

"Ha-Ha. Thank you, Ron." Hermione said to him, as she felt a bit relieved that her scalded hand was covered in bandages. "I have some ointments in the bathroom that can cure this."

"You go ahead and I'll see about straighten this up."

She caringly smiled at him and it reminded him how much he missed her. _Merlin__ – __he __had __missed __her._ He didn't even let her pass him as he boldly reached out and grabbed her by her waist.

"Ron," Hermione asked in confusion, as she was looking at him and then looking at the decreasing distances between their lips.

He never was one with words and as his lips pulsated against her's and their bodies collided with one another - he wasn't about to start.


	3. Breakfast

**Warning:** This chapter does contain a bit more adult situations than I normally write.

**Chapter 3 - Breakfast**

"Hmmm," murmured Ron as his eyes opened up from sleep.

He slowly woke up to the nuzzling of a warm naked body pressed up against his. It didn't take long for him to recognize the untamable brown bushy hair of Hermione's as he gazed at her head directly below his chin. She was sleeping innocently on his chest and he wasn't the least bit shocked or ashamed that she wasn't clothed. For that matter, he could feel from the cold floor on his bum that he wasn't either.

_Merlin, __what __a __night,_ Ron happily thought of how he found himself in this situation as he relaxed his body and held Hermione warmly against him.

"Zzzzz," wheezed Hermione softly.

_It's odd that after a good shag and short nap I can be clear headed and alert while she's totally dead to the world. Mad really, I mean usually I come home late and I barely can make a step onto the creaky wooden floor and she'd be there, wide-awake, hollering at me. Merlin, even by the time my head hits the pillow, I'm out but she can't stop reading and go to sleep to save her life. I have to shag her so she can get some sleep and I can have some peace. Ha – I even miss that… I miss a lot of things … like having a brilliant shag whenever I wanted one. I mean, bloody hell that was incredible._

Ron focused on his rather randy memories of their all-night shagging. He also couldn't help but notice that he was laying on the floor in a disaster area: broken flour jars on the floor, burnt pots of pasta and cheese on the walls and floor, spilled red tomato sauce all over the stove, the Icebox leaning precariously forward with the front door pulled off the hinge, something that looked like mangled bread scattered all over the counter-tops, and a broken kitchen table with the cloth thrown up against a window.

_How __did __that __get __there__…__oh __yeah, __she __tossed __it __there __to __keep __the __neighbors __from __seeing __her __on __top __of __the __table __as __she __was __shagged. __I __seriously __doubt __it __worked __though_, Ron judged as he noticed that the tablecloth only managed to obstruct half the kitchen window as Hermione most likely kicked part of it down with her legs. He also noticed and remembered that three of the legs of the kitchen table had given way during a wild bit of shagging in that corner of the room. _Merlin, __this __Muggle __stuff __doesn't __hold __up __worth __beans. __All __of __it __kept __breaking __or __we __accidentally __tore __some of it __down._

Ron frowned at that thought that he realized he would have to tell his Dad that Muggle kitchens don't really hold up all that well compared to Wizard kitchens. He would also probably have to explain what he was doing that caused the table legs to break and the fridge door to come un-hung as he was bracing Hermione's naked body against it. _On __second __thought__ – __I'll __leave __those __details __out._

"Zzzzzz," Hermione continued to snore, all the while her nose nuzzled deeper into Ron's chest.

He briefly smiled as he tightened his hold on a peaceful Hermione sleeping on top of him. After a minute of watching Hermione peacefully sleep, he thought it would be a good idea to look around the kitchen and start mentally calculating how much of the damage was Hermione's and how much of it was his.

_The Icebox is mine. Merlin these Muggle appliances can't hold up for dung._

In front of the Icebox set an upside down platter of burnt Lasagna.

_That one is Hermione._

Burnt pasta and cheese on the walls and floor.

_Hermione. _

Broken table and ripped tablecloth.

_Mine, well partly Hermione, if you count the tablecloth._

Spilled liter of milk on the floor by the stove that Crookshanks was now lapping up.

_Me __again, __and __I __can __still __feel __it __on __Hermione's __body. _Ron gently tilted Hermione's body a bit off of him. _Merlin, __we're __practically __sticking __together. __I __thought __I __did __a __better __job __of __licking __and __sucking __it __off __her __then __that._

Broken oven with the hinge blasted off and the panel door lying in front of the oven.

_Hermione, oh well at least it's still in the kitchen._

"Ha-ha," Ron started to chuckle to himself as he fondly remembered the first time he caught Hermione cooking. It had been when the three of them were searching the Horcruxes and were staying in an old abandoned Muggle apartment.

"**Bloody ****hell, ****I'm ****starving**." Ron loudly complained to Harry as they both carried in several heavy boxes of stolen records from Borgin & Burkes.

"Ron, language." griped Hermione as she cleared an old wooden table for them to lay the boxes on.

Harry ignoring Hermione's complaint of Ron using bad language rather agreed with him. "I could do with some dinner myself. Those eggs and sausage that you cooked this morning weren't enough."

Ron remembered that they had to share three eggs and four links of sausage as he laid his boxes down beside Harry's. "It was all we had left."

Ron looked over to see the busy look of Hermione as she took out a ledger from one of the boxes.

"Hermione, how about if I go down to the neighborhood store and buy some meat and you cook up what's left of those canned vegetables I saw in the pantry."

Ron suggestion seemed to have struck a nerve with Hermione as if the very suggestion was sexist and dirty.

"**I ****will ****do ****no ****such ****thing!** What, just because I'm a girl that you think I should be the one cooking," Hermione lectured him with a look of disgust.

Ron seemed a bit taken back by her feminist defensive response and was about to row with her when Harry stepped in before he even had a chance to set Hermione straight.

"Hermione, he said no such thing. Ron and I have been cooking all the meals since we left The Burrows—"

"**So!**" Hermione snapped at the both of them as if she was a wounded beast caught in a trap.

"Now it's your turn," stated Harry in a cold tone that he didn't want to argue about it anymore.

Hermione seemed a bit taken back by Harry's insistence and Ron's angry look and quickly came up with an alternative idea. "Fine, if you don't think I'm doing my fair share of the work then I'll go get the meat-"

Ron was quick to see Hermione's angle of switching the roles around and immediately voiced his disapproval. "Oh no you don't. Those are Muggle appliances in there-"

Hermione interrupted him before he could complete his line of thought. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Ron couldn't help but roll his eyes at Hermione as she knew well enough that he often burnt his hands on a Muggle stove whenever he tried to use magic on them. "This morning I burnt my hand and I don't know how to use Muggle appliances. You do. So I'll be the one to get the meat."

Hermione made a hurt face and then looked over at a tired Harry who shook his head no; he wasn't going to help her. She immediately began to pout as she slowly stormed to the kitchen under silent protest. Ron hadn't thought anything more of it until he was walking back from the neighborhood store and was shocked to hear a loud bang come out of the Muggle apartment they were staying in, followed by the kitchen stove landing directly in his path. It landed with a huge metal thump and it barely managed to miss him by a single meter.

Ron had thought it was the work of DeathEaters and had dashed into the house to meet up with Harry with his wand drawn out as well. They both jumped into the kitchen prepared to duel with a legion of DeathEaters only to find a disheveled and shocked Hermione instead. He remembered her bushy hair was sticking up in every direction and steam seemed to be billowing directly off her head. Her face was smeared with black stains and both of her eyes were bloodshot from the blast. To make matters worse she had an eerie look of someone who had lost their keys as she incoherently mumbled to herself that she needed to study for the OWLs'.

"**Hermione!**" shouted both of them in unison as they dashed over to her.

"I need to… have to study… OWLs' are only five months away."

"Ha-ha," Ron chuckled a bit louder, for it was the first time that he had learned his Straight O student and perfectionist girlfriend was in fact, the worst cook this side of the planet. Even when she played it straight and did no magic it still carried the same dire results which left Harry and Ron wondering how she managed to cause a boiled egg to turn into scrambled mush and links of sausage to shoot out of the kitchen like a missile.

Ron remembered Harry and he used to tease Hermione something fierce. "Oi Ron, should we get take-away or do you think we should chance Hermione's cooking taking flight."

Hermione, ever the person who would never admit defeat or imperfections, would always pout back, "There's nothing wrong with my cooking! I can't help it if these appliances are outdated and broken."

Ron, ever the tactful one, usually pushed her buttons a bit more. "If that's the case then how do you explain the stove missing my head by a mere centimeter – **from ****across ****the ****street!**"

He had always managed to tell and re-tell that same story to anyone that could bear to listen to him with the distance always decreasing. Soon he'd be telling everyone it hit him right in the head.

"Ha-ha," chuckled Ron smiling as he remembered better times.

His chuckling seemed to jolt Hermione from sleep as he noticed her eyes start to flutter open.

"Hermione," whispered Ron hoping that she was still sleeping and not awake.

"Oh my God-"

Ron gulped in fear from saying anything before she blasted off in a fit of temper.

"Hermione, it's okay. We can repair the kitchen."

Sadly, his words had no effect on her as she immediately covered her bare chest with her arms and looked deeply appalled.

_This __is __not __good_, he thought to himself as Hermione started to back away from him, as if he was the last person she ever wanted to touch.

"**Ron, ****how ****could ****you!**" she shrieked at him with a look of revulsion and fear.

Of course he thought she was talking about the damage to the kitchen.

"Hey, half of this damage you caused-."

It didn't generate the response he thought he was supposed to get from Hermione.

"**I ****can't ****believe ****you ****took ****advantage**** – ****I****… ****I ****can't ****believe ****you ****did ****it,**" Hermione interrupted in a scream, as she seemed at a loss to describe properly what they did last night.

He had to admit, he was bewildered by her reaction. After all, it wasn't the first time they shagged and she certainly hadn't been drunk when they did it either.

"What? You mean when we shagged. You're upset about that?" Ron asked in bewilderment; quite confused at Hermione's barmy reaction.

Apparently that was the wrong question to ask at that particular moment.

"**GET ****OUT!**" Hermione shouted at him and she kicked at him to get him to leave.

"Hermione," whined Ron as he stood up, completely naked, and tried to plead his case.

"**GET ****OUT!**" she roared with the most conviction he ever heard her carry.

"Okay, okay," Ron said, bit startled by her outburst. He swiftly grabbed his wand and his pile of ripped clothes off the kitchen floor. He barely managed to put on his pants before Hermione pitched him out the front door.

"**Ah, ****bloody ****hell!**" he cried as he felt the door slamming shut behind him.

There he stood with his pants barely on, wearing no shirt, in Hermione's neighborhood which seemed to be filled at that moment with dog lovers who were now walking past the house, goggling at a half-dressed Ron.

He didn't get the chance to be embarrassed as the only thought running through his head was how totally confusing Hermione's behavior was. To make matters worse, he stood outside on her porch wondering if he might have blown his only chance to get back together with Hermione Granger.

"Sniff," he heard from behind the door. Obviously, Hermione was crying.

"**Hermione!** Open the door this is bloody ridiculous."

"Go away Ron," shouted a defiant and resolute Hermione.

Ron felt rather gloomy at her response but he was determined to dig in his heels on this one. "**No!** I… I don't want to go. I want to be with you."

"**Then ****why ****did ****you ****take ****advantage ****of ****me! ****You **_**knew **_**I ****was ****vulnerable ****after ****I ****just ****broke ****up ****with ****Mick!"**

If he was a sensitive bloke right now, he probably would've felt a bit sad and even sympathetic for her loss; except - he wasn't one of those type of guys. A huge smile grew across his face and he even took the time to wave at one of the Muggle neighbors that was ogling him as she walked by the house.

"So you broke up with Mickey, eh? What's the matter, you kept running out of tissues for him to use? Let me guess, you ordered him to wipe his feet off before entering your house and he had a complete emotional breakdown."

His cheek and sarcasm did ten times more than his pleading as Hermione yanked open the door wearing nothing more than a sofa pillow in front of her and a furious look on her face.

"You are such a foul-mouthed tactless prat."

Her little barb did nothing to wipe the smug little smile off his face after hearing about Hermione and Mickey breaking up. Instead, all he wanted to do was take a dive in and wallow all day in the trashing of Mickey.

"Did he get a paper cut on one of your books and at the first sight of blood called it off?"

This seemed to infuriate Hermione even more as she was now red-faced with anger. "**He ****did ****no ****such ****thing!** Unlike you, he has the ability to read something more than comic books."

"Whooo, I'm not so sure he could read one without breaking out into a fit of crying, what with his hyper-sensitive disposition. Did you have to hold his hand when he read one?"

"There's nothing wrong with a man crying-"

"**Ha!** Well with that vote of confidence he was definitely normal and not a spoiled pansy tosser; especially what with you knowing everything about what it's like to be a _REAL_ man."

"He was a REAL man; least he didn't run off to be with some bimbo and then rub it in my face."

Ron's smile vanished as he shouted back, "**The ****last ****time ****I ****checked, ****you ****were ****the ****one ****holding ****hands ****with ****some ****pathetic ****loser. ****You ****were ****the ****one ****who ****wanted ****to ****break ****up ****in ****the ****first ****place!**"

"**I ****did ****not! ****It ****was ****your ****stupid ****idea!**"

He was now standing directly in front of a very angry Hermione and their faces were only a quarter of a meter apart.

"**To ****bloody ****hell ****it ****was! ****We ****both ****might ****have ****agreed ****but ****I ****wasn't ****the ****one ****who ****came ****up ****with ****it!**"

"**I ****admit ****nothing, ****and ****don't ****get ****off ****the ****subject ****of ****last ****night!** You came over here to take advantage of me."

"**I ****didn't ****even ****know ****about ****you ****and ****weeping ****Mickey ****breaking ****up-**"

"Ginny, must've told you. She blabs everything else to you."

"Oh like she hasn't been feeding you with news of me being miserable-"

"**She ****has ****not**," shouted Hermione who dropped her eye contact with him.

"**That's ****a ****lie! **Now let's get one other thing straight - I didn't take advantage of you. What kind of bloke you take me for?"

Hermione loudly snorted in contempt as she raised an eyebrow up at him.

"You were the one screaming, "Don't stop Ron. Don't stop, just keep going," he snapped as he mimicked her voice, reminding her of what she said while they were shagging on the kitchen table after it had broken.

The huge blush of embarrassment on her face said more than anything else as she feebly responded, "I… I can't believe you. **You ****come ****over ****here ****and ****play ****against ****my ****feelings ****that ****I **_**used **_**to ****have ****for ****you**** – ****and ****then ****you ****have ****the ****nerve ****to ****accuse ****me ****of ****being ****responsible ****for ****our ****breakup!**"

"Used to? **Ha!** **Merlin, ****it ****looked ****a ****lot ****different ****to ****me ****last ****night! ****As ****for ****our ****breakup, ****I ****came ****over ****here ****last ****night ****to **_**beg **__**you **_**to ****take ****me ****back! ****I ****regret ****it ****now ****you ****insufferable-**"

He never even got to finish his sentence as Hermione's face lit up with realization and she immediately dropped her pillow and jumped him out on the porch with a huge kiss.

He even overheard a Muggle man from the sidewalk commenting, "She certainly isn't shy is she?"

To Ron's surprise that Muggle wasn't alone.

"I'll say, she's got a good pair of lungs on her too."

"More than her lungs I wager."

"Her… ump… mion...eh," he tried to gasp while they were still kissing. "We… umm… need to… hmm… go inside." Ron looked over his shoulder to notice a small gathering of gawking onlookers.

Hermione held her eyes shut as she continued to kiss him and refused to go inside. _Bugger!_ Ron dropped what was left of his clothes, picked Hermione up and carried her back through the door, letting it bang shut behind him. After a few more minutes of heavy snogging Hermione finally spoke, "Ron, I was miserable without you. Please don't ever do that again."

He smiled even though he was a bit confused. "I'll swear by Merlin on that." He reached down and sealed it with a deep kiss before mentioning something that might disrupt their happiness. "Hermione, you don't suppose I could be the one to cook some breakfast for us do you?"

She widely smiled and responded, "What you don't want me to cook it?"

"Maybe tomorrow, the neighbors have already gotten enough for today."

**The END!**


End file.
